Open house

*

Light and love live on
side by side with dust and death.
Nature’s open house

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Today is my WordPress 8th year anniversary!

Thanks for joining me, staying for the ride and keeping me on track. 😀

 

Persephone passions

The tail end of death
shall soon be upon us
as too
the heady scent of birth

Both majestic
and extraordinary
for they are
destroyer and creator

There is no definitive line
no singular moment
as veins of love
take hold over the other

Rushing to the light
breaking through cracks
these rampant orgasms
bleed Persephone passions

Winter
fades into hades
as spring
grows into a rose

 

 

How they fall

How they fall
the dead
already dying
before the fall

not long to go
it seems
as leaf’s breath
wind chimes death

imagine now
the dead
not quite ready
to relinquish

the call
isn’t such a thing
for no voice
of vibration exists

cold in the warmth
of coloured grief
where leaves
learn the lesson

of how to fall

clouds

to understand
to be aware
to acknowledge

clouds
those blankets
of peacefulness and violence

we reach beyond
to that shroud
whence we came

perhaps to understand freedom
perhaps to be aware of love
perhaps to acknowledge our failures

And there are those clouds
gone in a whisper
in the time it takes to write a poem

Is it possible to feel

Stars
hairs upon skin
her universe
ever growing
light
falling into death
naked beneath time
silent in the study of life

Stars
how many heartbeats will it take
her open copulation
laughing in the dark
birthing shadows
gargoyles
crimson pools of thought
expanding
dying
silent

Stars
is it possible to feel
her soul
light
life
the beginning?

Is it possible to endure creation
without losing one’s mind?

I thought she was an angel

This story was written in 2013 in response to Kellie Elmore’s prompt: Time & Place

You’re young. You are standing in front of a shop window watching something on the black and white television inside. A woman grabs your hand and runs down the street, pulling you along…

***

The image on the screen … embedded inside my mind like a dart in a board.

Her grip was like that of a feather gripping the sky; I thought she was an angel. When she looked down on me as we flew along at speeds my little legs were incapable of understanding. I saw in her eyes a smile of something unseen on earth; on the little bit of the earth I had seen in my young life.

We flew so so fast, the dart came loose and the image was gone as it became mixed with the blurring of the streets and cars and the people, the ignorant people. Ignorant because I didn’t cry, because I thought she was an angel, my angel, for me.

She smiled with her mouth too, but that was a different smile. It was her eyes which captivated me, captivated me …

They caught me each time she looked down and when she turned her face away towards the horizon, I ached for those eyes to return to me and when they did, they were beautiful … I thought she was an angel.

I thought she was an angel

but I was wrong

… and now I am.